Burning Blue
by Nicolesque
Summary: Flames are often dangerous, and meant to be left alone. When a dark Prince enters the seemingly mundane life Bulma shares with her simple boyfriend Yamcha, temper and pride ignite into a deadly game of treading forbidden boundaries. But when all the rules get broken, someone is bound to get burned...
1. Prologue: The Blue of the Flame

It always intrigued Bulma from the very first days of her shadowing her father in his lab, those early years where the littlest notions didn't get past the curious gaze of the little, cerulean-haired girl bound to become a follower in ' footsteps. The way it wavered in the slightest breeze of her motion to get closer to it, the emanating warmth that startled her when she would, and the chaotic danger it presented when it was riled by her threatening breath.

But what transfixed the child's inquisitive gaze was the presence of light blue within the amber embers swaying in front of her. It was a peculiar colour to be witnessed in the process of heat, and frankly she felt even more hypnotized by the dancing flame simply due to her growing vanity towards her birthrite of blue hair.

Bulma would often see herself in that flame whenever she revisited its essential but volatile nature. Whether in the kitchen or the lab, she would find herself being drawn to its tranquil presence and hovering a hand over it just to feel the thrill of its heat running through her. In the bathroom, she would conjure its majestic glaze in the form of a candle just to revel in its silent power when there was little to no light. That was when it was most comforting to her, its confident solace without any other light source to distract her from it or somehow deplete its presence.

When Bulma was a child, she loved playing with fire. Now, as an adult, nothing has changed.


	2. Burning Black

Shivers. Warm waves of tingling gooseflesh consuming her skin, nipples taut with an intense arousal she couldn't deny nor ignore any longer. The soaking moisture of her drying bottom lip diving in between her teeth, clamping as the pressure between her legs mounted to the climax of an anticlimactic, tantalizing tease...

These were sensations that Bulma accepted didn't exist in her world. In between informative sessions with her father's technology magazines, the occasional indulgence of a romance novel usually put Bulma in her place, the realization dawning on her that there was a vast contrast between the smutty reading material and her lackluster love life.

But coming upon a near insult to her semi-perfect life, Bulma would simply roll her eyes and make a skeptical 'Pbbt' sound at the thought of any woman, especially one of her caliber, drawing comparisons between a work of desperate fiction and reality.

And then she would remember her little girl wishes of meeting a Prince who would fall in love with her and bring her to his castle with strawberry patches, feeling a pang of sadness at the fact that her destiny was to simply live in her own castle and eat her own strawberries from her own fridge at two in the morning with its blinding lights of judgment exposing her scantily clad form to an empty kitchen.

'That could change,' She thought with a somewhat optimistic hope, 'Yamcha and I could always move back in together, get married...'

Then she would shudder when Goku's last words before the three-year stretch of imperative preparation for her Z Warrior friends began echoed in her mind.

_"Take good care of the baby, Bulma!"_

She didn't know why exactly, but she couldn't help but involuntarily shake at the notion of her and Yamcha having a baby. Especially when shit was about to get real in three years. Even so, their relationship was at such a standstill, Yamcha himself was at a standstill just on his own. Sure, he came up with the Baseball League gig but then she found that the attention their connection lacked was being offered to the breasty fan club surrounding him all the time.

Bulma was not a typically jealous woman, but she knew when her own assets were being overlooked for others'. She could just see herself dealing with a child on her own, no help during Yamcha's midnight excursions at his weekly tailgate parties and his money going straight into the G-string of a tipsy cheerleader.

Not that she needed his money, and thank Kami for that. She valued her independence more than anything, which is why she was content with how things were. And there wasn't anything else going on for her, as Bulma wasn't exactly the heiress socialite that many other wealthy families had bred. Somehow, she had been raised by her lab and she remained loyal even in her 30's.

Just not loyal enough for her father to hand it over to her just yet. With her sleeping pattern consistently nocturnal and her lack of organization in other areas of her, Dr. Briefs didn't feel she possessed the maturity to handle the entire company. Bulma could barely open her eyes before noon, how would she lead conferences at dawn or travel to other countries while keeping a lucid mind?

With being an only child, Bulma wasn't expected to act any different. Both of her parents decided it was futile to try to mold her stubborn, imaginative mind into something she wasn't: practical, responsible, and well, boring. Her parents loved her for who she was, but her development into adulthood had staggered a bit as her world with Goku took precedence over reality.

Still, her parents understood. All Mrs. Brief wanted was Bulma's happiness, fully focused on making sure Bulma noticed every good-looking man in her life so that all of her adventures were somehow fruitful to her acquiring grandchildren someday soon. And her father was content with running the company and keeping a watchful eye on his daughter in the lab, even if he was a bit tired.

A shuddering sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, trying to blot out the swirling mess of thoughts running through her brain. All she wanted to do was sneak quietly into the kitchen for a quick spoonful of ice cream, maybe two or ten, before creeping back upstairs unheard in her guilt-ridden trip for carbohydrates.

"It's a little late for an already unhealthy _human_ to consume sugar at this hour..."

She felt her shoulders slump as her midnight mission was suddenly thwarted by the unplanned presence of an absolute imposter who she, for some unknown reason once his mouth ruined his looks, invited to live in her own home.

"After all, the effect a sedentary lifestyle has on a female body is _staggering_ when combined with a poor diet."

"Vegeta!" She spun, shrieking in a loud whisper and lifting a threatening spoon at him. "It is 2 a.m., what the _hell_ are you doing down here?!"

She really had no other comeback in her blushing embarrassment, though still indignant at the fact he chose to target her nonexistent weight problem as his latest punchline. He regarded the spoon with an amused smirk from his shadowy corner in the kitchen. She really wished in that moment she hadn't opened her door for a sadistic Saiyan who had a tendency to lurk in dark spaces and silently pounce with sharp insults to her ego.

"Watching you aim that ridiculous instrument towards me as if it would ever do you any good in battle. It would take more than a spoon to take me down, woman."

Kami, his gloating was endless as he puffed his chest out for good measure. She could tell he was in a mood for their usual spar, but she was tired and she just wanted some damn ice cream. Now that he had reminded her of its consequences, she felt its appeal suddenly slip. Still, she was too tired for this. "Well, that's fascinating and all but I have a _ton_ work to do, so I will be leaving-"

"What a shock, you suddenly having an ethic for priorities . I could have sworn I caught you in your usual leisure, contemplating your pathetic life here on this ball of filth."

She literally tossed the spoon into the sink, although it hadn't done its job of bringing delicious vanilla ice cream to her craving lips. She kept a narrowed glare at him as she stepped forward, the dim blue lights from the various fixtures in the kitchen reflecting off of her offended expression and body tensed for retort.

He noted the anger in her rose sharply as she got closer, lacking any of the shaking fear he was accustomed to when there was that little distance between him and another person. But her...

She was fearless, and fucking pissed.

"At least I still have a planet to live my pathetic life on."

His expression dropped to match hers, and she knew she had delivered the ultimate blow to his ego. The difference was she didn't need to gloat about anything, that is, except when she got to the edge of the first step next to the kitchen.

"By the way, I'll never get fat Vegeta. I just don't have to workout to death like _some _people to look this good," She sent him a vulgar grin before turning away.

As she faded up the steps, Vegeta glowered at the darkness surrounding him, feeling his own insatiable rage swelling up within him at the incredulous audacity of a mere Earthling woman who held more physical weakness than he had ever had the displeasure of witnessing in his life.

He had never wanted to destroy something so badly in his life.

Yet she had no problem verbally slaying his pride, just vandalizing it in front of him with her compromising lack of decency or humility. She gave no acknowledgement to who he was, a Prince who would conquer her foolish friends once he finished demolishing the so-called threat they trained in futility for.

He would not let his heritage as one of the most powerful Saiyans go to such frivolous waste, especially at the tactless jest of a shrew female with nothing more than a technological skill. Even that was sub-par since he destroyed everything built for the sole purpose of his training. His daily life in such an insufficient, insufferable routine between her mundane presence and her total lack of honour was beyond his tolerance at this point. Besides, watching her fall apart from her unrealistic high horse would be a slight improvement on the redundant routine his daily life now held.

He was going to show her, without mercy, just how powerful he truly was.

* * *

Yeah, I know I'm a serial fic starter and not a serial fic ender but I REALLY like the idea I have for this and my writer's block is gone finally! For now. SO. Tell me what you think, and I know there's not much but I'm still trying to build ideas for this same-old platform without it being same-old.

This is M because it's going to be dark and gritty and fun. For "adults" only. I can't card you, so your discretion is advised...

And this will be a three-years fic, if not noticeable.

DISCLAIMER: This wonderful fangirl obsession I have with Bulma and Vegeta is purely that, a fanmade work created under the wonderful creation of Akira Toriyama and Funimation. They are not my characters nor is DBZ mine to be messing with but...

I am. And I hope you like it. :)


	3. Mockery

Vegeta trained harder than ever that night. Sleep was always an afterthought, something he only succumbed to when it was absolutely essential for his body to recover from the trauma he underwent in his perpetual endeavor for his rite to ascension. He also refused to bear witness to the abhorrable nightmares that plagued his slumber, their vividry due to his prolonged refusal to sleep.

He felt the electricity of his own energy pulse through his body with threads of vibrating heat. All he had to do was conjure that idiot's face, as well as the fact that this idiot's best friend in the form of a feeble Earth woman was jeering him to his face.

Would Kakarott laugh with her? He heard the wailing guffaw echo in his mind, watching that poor excuse for a Saiyan indulge in his latest verbal defeat brought on by the harlot herself.

Expanding his body mass by more than a third of his own weight, he felt the power pumping back into him with each decibel of Kakarrot's enjoyment rippling through his own mangled mind. And then the woman joined him, her ridiculous hair and equally outlandish clothing to match burning itself into his mind along with the soundbytes of their horrendous laughter.

"You think you can laugh at me? The Prince of all Saiyans?! I'll fucking show YOU!"

He sent a gigantic wave of Ki throughout the chamber in a spiraling blast that hit every single bot with pure precision and just enough energy within it to ensure their destruction. When it arrived back to its source, Vegeta braced himself for the attack with vein-exposed arms held out in front of him in a cross-buck.

He felt the incinerating waves of anger coursing through him as the obnoxious cackling rose from the woman's gaping red lips in his mind. He seared with hatred at her ridiculously coloured hair, her pale opaque skin tone and her repulsively flirtatious comments he still remembered from day one.

No one had ever overstepped their boundaries like that with him, even those who were not familiar with the trail of dead bodies he left in his wake across the universe, they would take one look at the perpetual scowl he wore and knew very well that he was not approachable.

Everyone except _her_.

And the so-called "Z-fighters" with all the asinine meaning behind _that_ atrocious title for themselves seemed impervious to her whining demands and intrusive opinions. They practically catered to her spoiled needs like mouthwatering dogs at the ring of a bell.

"You all are so PATHETIC!"

His roar echoed through the gravity chamber, climbing over the crackling of his power reverberating through his body and sending his thermal temperature to an all-time high. Vegeta could feel his muscles tearing with the agony of his efforts, his strength fading as time ran through his fingers like quicksand..

As did the blast, ripping through him and sending his limp torso into a backbend to the wall before his head made deafening contact with it.

Bulma felt a terrible pang when she woke up, almost as if she knew her day was going to suck for some reason. Only minutes later did she recall the hazy events in the kitchen from the night before and a frown decorating her tangled, post-sleep features. She rolled her eyes, and plopped her head into her hand, totally not even ready to get up anymore.

Still, she obliged. She had promised her father she would actually do something productive at some point this week. For some reason, she felt restless and blocked from the passion she used to feel about her work. Especially with a certain Saiyan Prince making a monotonous mockery of it.

'Speaking of mockery..' Her thoughts haunted her in a cool voice, referring to her last words to Vegeta.

Oh, he was going to be royally pissed, in every sense of the pun.

She made a solemn trail downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, although this was normally a time most would be eating lunch but her mother always waited just for her to cook breakfast. If Vegeta busted her chops about it, Mrs. Briefs always obliged and mustered up a miniature pre-breakfast feast that sometimes Bulma had to heat up as leftovers when her parents left for one of their frequent trips out of town to conferences and the like.

Which, she didn't mind, but she thought it was weird that Vegeta was privvy to steak, rice, and hot dogs at the crack of dawn. He obviously wasn't accustomed to certain things being eaten certain times.

Such as strawberries and ice cream at two in the morning.

She seethed inwardly at herself for recalling last night yet again. Third time already since she woke up, however she knew exactly why. She felt bad for what she had said, her usual cranky self always going off on people who pushed her buttons.

And Vegeta was good at it. Too good.

Part of her wanted to feel angry, but she didn't. Albeit slightly annoyed, she sometimes would get a kick out of watching herself gamble in verbal spars with the volatile Prince. It was fun sometimes, even if they both had a knack for taking the fun out of it and taking it seriously.

But with Vegeta's extensive training, she was well aware of his voracious appetite that actually rivaled Goku's. Leave it to him to indirectly challenge the poor guy on almost every single aspect of being a Saiyan, including a ridiculously unlimited capacity for food.

Which is exactly why Bulma thought it was very strange that Vegeta hadn't shown his scowling self at the table for brunch.

If their combative exchanged hadn't gone down last night, Bulma wouldn't have bat a single eyelash. But she wondered if maybe he was that upset that he wouldn't even eat when she was around.

She wondered if he was ignoring her.

Then the guilt spread itself wide onto her chest like an instantaneous rash of emotion. Would he seriously starve himself over that? Did he hate her that much now?

Bulma may have been the most conceited person on the planet, with a good dose of self-awareness to her sex appeal, but even she couldn't sit right with someone _hating _her. Even if it was the self-righteous, stubborn Prince that couldn't get enough of his own ego.

"Bulma, dear good morning!" Chirped her vibrant mother in a greeting that went unheard by the brooding Bulma. Upon seeing this, Mrs. Briefs tilted her head and pouted. "Why so glum darling? Is it because Vegeta's not around?"

Her gaze snapped to her mother's, almost in the instinctive self-defense stance against any accusations of Vegeta's whereabouts affecting her in any way. But then she realized, her mother noticed too.

So he WAS refusing to come to the kitchen!

"Wait.. Did he have breakfast this morning?" Bulma asked. She watched with slight annoyance as her mother pointed a finger to her mouth and looked upward in a thoughtful pause that lasted eternity.

"Um... No?"

"Mom, I need a definitive answer!" Bulma cried out, standing from her chair with a fist held up. Her mother sent her a surprised smile.

"Oh my Bulma, you're getting all riled up! Just calm down, I'll make you your favourite strawberry pancakes."

"No, I have to find him!" She cried, pushing away the chair in her lung for the door.

When he stirred to consciousness, Vegeta could only see the hazy stains of black and blue in his sight. When the blue shape ended up being a gravity-defying mass of curls, he felt himself twitch with the familiar instinct of rage but actually moving his body to do anything about it would prove to be challenging. Even Vegeta was aware when his only motor skills were shot.

Then the black shape came into view and it was equally maddening when Vegeta couldn't seem to utilize a single ounce of motion to react to this one. Rather, he could barely make out the low, sanguine tone of the woman's voice as she was talking to who he presumed to be his greatest rival. He could feel the distinctive Ki signature with an inward loathing.

"I don't know why it would have malfunctioned like that but I haven't bothered to check.. As soon as I saw him, I just didn't know what to do except bring him to the medical ward and call you."

"Yeah, I felt the sudden rise and fall but.. I guess I thought he was just getting stronger, or something," Goku's voice tweaked at the last part, as if unsure of what he was saying completely in a nervous tic.

"He is, that's the problem. My father and I can barely keep up with him. He doesn't sleep and according to my mother, he hadn't eaten this morning. And I'm worried this is all my fault," Vegeta saw the cloud of turquoise hair suddenly falter a little, as if she was laying her head down in defeat.

"Oh come on, Bulma, I'm sure it's not! You're doing a great thing for him, he'll appreciate it. You'll see," Goku consoled her with an uplifting whisper. Vegeta felt his insides boil at the optimistic charade this fool was using his own name in.

"Thanks, Goku. I think I'm just going to watch him for a little longer.. This isn't the first time he's done this, you know. He completely destroyed the first chamber I made for him," Bulma's voice softened a little, then hardened with the concern still prevalent. "He's lucky it wasn't him this time!"

When Goku left, all Vegeta could do was stifle the urge to get up and choke the sympathetic words out of the woman, show her that he wasn't the pitiful weakling she so desperately tried to cottle him as in her mind. Instead, all he could do was watch through barely open eyes as she sighed heavily from the chair adjacent to his bed.

She shook her head slowly, "What the hell am I going to do with you, Vegeta?"

Then he watched as her hand reached out and lightly caressed the obsidian tendrils of his upright hair draped over the pillow. It was the most peculiar sensation as she did so, something that no single being in the universe had dared to get close enough to do. But he was conscious enough to turn it off as soon as it started.

'This woman and her damn lack of fear, I'm going to have to change this..'

That was his last thought before surrendering to another influx of tranquilizer at the press of the woman's finger.

Alright! I have to say I was so driven to get this one out ASAP because I was so pleasantly surprised by all the feedback last week. Thank you SO much!

Just want to add that as far as the canon timeline of where this fic startes, it's basically after the 'dream' and his gravity chamber explosion and right before the good stuff happens. :) Bulma's sporting the afro and she's still with Yamcha.

For now...

Anyways, have a great week and thanks for starting it with me! I just moved and got my license but this is definitely one of my most inspired fics so it won't be too long.

~Nicolesque 


	4. Imminence Begins

When Bulma finally woke up from her unplanned nap in the medical ward around noon the next day, she sleepily made her way to the lab with tired eyes and tousled hair. She hadn't been able to even shower let alone make a passing and predictably horrified glance at a mirror in the past twenty-four hours.

And she also wasn't able to get Vegeta's physical and mental status off of her mind.

Even two days behind on her blueprint transcribing and now backed up with repairs on Vegeta's gravity chamber, she kept finding herself catching her breath and wondering if Vegeta was okay, going to be okay, or if his demise would truly be her fault and they'd have even less aid in fighting the Androids.

If they lost because of it…

Bulma would shake her head, her eyes clenching shut behind her goggles. 'Snap out of it girl! It's not even that bad, besides you know Vegeta's a fighter even worse than Goku is sometimes. He's going to be just fine,' She soothed herself. Still, she visibly deflated when another tendril of doubt dropped onto her pensive chest.

Medicine was never her strong suit, Bulma had read and seen enough to know that as science-based as biology and medicine could be anything could happen to anybody at any time. Everyone's different, and especially an entirely different species not even known about in this world. Still, Bulma didn't feel any intuitions when she introspectively scanned herself that Vegeta's life was in grave danger.

She just couldn't handle seeing him in so much pain, with so much blood, when he was one of the most unfeeling guys in the universe who boasted a limitless invincibility.

She supposed it had something to do with seeing Yamcha's death right before her eyes, televised for the world to see. She remembered her heart dropping into ice cold shock, her body going numb with the vision of a nightmare unfolding before her. It had traumatized her, even if they'd had their differences then and now.

If she could do anything to prevent that from happening ever again, she would. Even if it was someone as arrogant and impolite as Vegeta.

"Hey babe! Thought I'd find you here. Where is everybody?" Asked a cheery Yamcha, his voice breaking her thoughts on the lone Saiyan Prince. She blinked her thought train away before realizing who was in front of her and jumping slightly.

"Oh! Um.. My Dad actually left for a conference and my Mom went with him. Here by myself, again..," Bulma said with slight annoyance in her voice at 'again', earning a pout from her boyfriend.

"Well cheer up, 'cause I'm taking you out tonight! Where'd you like to go?" Yamcha took Bulma into his bulked arms by the waist, clamping his hands together as she felt herself flex back slightly. As unexpected as this was, she couldn't feel pleasantly surprised or excited today, which only made her feel even worse.

She sighed before placing her hands on Yamcha's shoulders and nervously laughing, "You have no idea how much I want to, but.."

His head turned inward with an inquisitive, chocolate gaze melting hers with a puppy-like anticipation, "But..?"

"I just have a lot to do, I'm behind on so much here and I don't want my Dad to come back to a mountain of my procrastination for another week," She explained away with ease, Yamcha's gaze never faltered from hers as he laughed a little.

"Oh? Procrastination, is that what they call it these days? I thought the word was 'lazy'!"

She playfully smacked his shoulder and turned back to her blueprint as Yamcha took a seat on a lab stool next to her work station, watching her with a careful eye that was clouded with doubt that she didn't notice until his next question graced the tense air between them.

"Is that really the reason? Or is there something else going on?"

Her face immediately dropped in a frown as she let het print fall back on the table and looked away at the far wall in front of her, wanting to fade away into the background of test tubes and computers. She hated it when he put her on the spot.

"Bulma, don't get annoyed just be honest-" When he tried to lay a pseudo-comforting hand on her shoulder, she backed away with a slight scowl on her face.

"I was, Yamcha. I really don't see what _I _get to be questioned when I'm not the one with the track record here! And I don't mean your fantasy baseball league that you celebrate at all hours of the night without even a phone call."

"Babe, come on! That's not even fair," Yamcha cried out as he stood up with defensive arms raised in the air, "I can't even get a good signal on my phone and I can't hear a damn thing in that bar-"

She cornered him with her pen sticking to his chin, "That phone was manufactured HERE at Capsule Corporation with the fastest and most efficient capacity for signal reception ever seen on the market for cellular devices. Don't even play that game with me mister, you will lose!"

"Okay, Bulma," His voice lowered, feeling the threat of her mental prowess. "So, since you're dancing the issue, what's up then? Am I right?"

"Right about what?" Bulma grumbled, pretending to go back to her blueprint. Yamcha kept his brown eyes on her as he asked again.

"Is there another reason you won't go out with me tonight?"

She looked at him with an angry pout and then back down at her paper. Stiffing up, she explained vaguely, "I'm stressed, okay? I'm backed up to my ass in labwork and repairs-"

"Repairs? Are you serious, Bulma?! That asshole had you repairing the entire world for him last week and I remember you turned down our date for the same exact reason then too!"

Bulma tensed her jaw, feeling a burning frustration as her patience began to wore. She hated how Yamcha never understood the utmost importance of expediting repairs for Vegeta's training, no matter how poorly he mishandled them.

"Yamcha, I can't help that Vegeta is so intense with his training that we have to constantly catch up with him. But I can say that it's probably going to be a vast help on the day the Androids come. Vegeta's obviously made that a priority and maybe you should too!" Bulma instantly regretted snapping so harshly at Yamcha but she was at her wit's end between worrying about Vegeta's health and trying to get so much done with so little strength.

Yamcha flinched slightly, "Wow.. I didn't realize trying to enjoy my life before it's practically over was such a crime."

"Well it wouldn't be practically over if you'd start training to help defeat the-"

"No, Bulma," Yamcha's voice softened, "I don't mean the Androids. I mean- Yeah, of course we wanna beat them and stuff, but I know we will. We always do. You and I always make it, together. Somehow."

Bulma felt an inward groan at his words, but let him continue without response.

"I just meant that, you know, when we finally settle down and have kids like Goku said we should while we still can.. I just want to get all of this out of my system, you know. I just want to make sure I'm ready. Not just for me but for both of us. I really want that with you eventually and I don't want anything in the way."

She felt a strange ambivalence about his heartfelt words. On one hand it was absolutely beautiful for him to even put feelings like that into words like those, but it also made her feel tired for some reason. A reason she couldn't put her finger on, and her scientist brain was on the verge of shutting down amidst all the current chaos she was facing.

"Yamcha.. That's beautiful, really but-"

"No, it's okay. You don't have to say anything, I just want you to know I love you. I know you're busy and stuff too, so… I'll go. I just hope you understand that."

He walked to her and kissed her on the forehead as she let her eyes close briefly. He softly stroked her hair and smiled down at her before leaving her lab.

Bulma found herself also on the verge of tears then, because in the midst of all the current chaos, she also couldn't say she understood the most familiar person in her life anymore.

After a good six hours went by in a blink, Bulma stretched her arms out and saw the sun setting. She always felt depressed when she caught this sight outside her window, as if she had lost some sort of race with time and her incomplete projects.

But hey, she was only _human_.

Bulma was used to everything being so extraordinary, especially her genius expertise in the scientific arts, but being the stubborn perfectionist her ego drew her to be made her disappointed at her own natural limits. As she made a clumsy pile of blueprints and lists of supplies needed for Vegeta's repairs, she hummed herself along the lab and daintily clapped the lights off before pressing the button to release the laboratory entrance.

When the sliding electronic doors shut behind her, Bulma absent-mindedly immersed herself into the dark hallway connecting her lab to the rest of the house. She walked through the dim garden her mother kept in a spacious compound and got into the elevator that took her to her housing quarters as soon as she entered her password. She had half a mind to go see Vegeta since it was on her way to the housing level, but felt a dizzying wave of fatigue at the thought.

Even Bulma had to admit, she needed a shower and some alone time before she was in the same room with any ample amount of testosterone anytime soon. Her patience with life was waning and her tolerance of the ignorance some men in her life possessed was wearing even thinner.

She briskly strolled into her dark living room, still humming to herself. Her mood had lightened at the significant amount of progress she had made on the pile of work she was behind on, and felt way more focused on taking better care of herself than she had been. Perhaps Yamcha's speech on being ready for the future, and her latest realization of how close the imminent end was really got to her sensibility as a woman.

First, she was going to brew a steaming cup of tea to accompany her on a relaxing bath. But as she turned the corner into the kitchen and hummed a high note, she was faced yet again with a lingering shadow in the corner.

Immediately her hum cut off into a scream and she jumped into the nearest wall, clinging to it for dear life as she scrambled to the floor and kicked herself away from the intruder.

"No! Don't touch me, I have friends you know- Strong friends! And I'm too young to die, I haven't even found my first wrinkle yet-"

"Stop your damn racket, woman."

The even, stoic tone of voice froze her on the ground. Was that seriously Vegeta?

Her face contorted into outraged concern as she scrambled yet again to her feet, "Are you absolutely insane?! You nearly died yesterday and you're in my _kitchen?_"

She could practically hear the smirk cracking on his lips, "Who said I didn't die and I'm merely haunting you?"

Bulma turned on a light to reveal his smug expression before folding her arms and frowning visibly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Aren't your parents out for a convenient vacation while you're assigned the task of solely repairing my gravity chamber..? Which by the way, I find incredibly illogical on your father's part seeing as how not only your skills have yet to be determined as useful in this area judging by my frequent series of setbacks, but your work ethic seems to be as low as your self-control regarding midnight snacks as well."

She blinked, her indignant expression unmoving. "Are you finished?"

"Oh, I've only just begun-"

"Good, let's go. YOU are going back to the infirmary where you belong! I will not have your premature death caused by YOUR lack of self-control regarding MY company's equipment on my conscious," Bulma retorted, stomping her foot firmly. Vegeta regarded this motion with intrigue.

He moved closer to her, his eyes piercing hers with a steel challenge.

"Make me."

Bulma's resolve suddenly dropped slightly. She knew she couldn't without calling Goku, and that could possibly mean her life in certain repercussions when it came to the Prince's reaction towards his presence. But she also knew the mountain of guilt she would feel if she didn't try.

Her eyes betrayed her, though, when they darted to the telephone on the wall.

"Ah, ah, ah..," Vegeta's low toned reprimand sounded slowly, "You will _never_ involve Kakarrot in my affairs again."

All the breath she was holding when Vegeta had caught her seemed to dissipate into the shaking tremble she suddenly felt at how low his voice had dropped when mentioning Goku. Was that a threat?

She stood there, stunned before blurting, "Wait, how did you-"

"Don't think for one second anyone's Ki gets past me you idiot wench. I have more sensory capacity in my damn fingernail than all of your foolish friends combined."

Bulma shook her head, frustration building up into her throat. She didn't know what to do at this point, but she was already sick of it and just wanted her tea and a bath. "Fine, Vegeta, I won't call Goku but-"

She was interrupted by a loud intake of air by Vegeta's nostrils as he honed in on her, merely inches away from her.

"Speaking of how keen my sensory abilities are… Am I smelling an excessive amount of body odour off of you, woman?"

Her face contorted into offended rage, but before she could verbally explode, he placed a finger that she didn't even see coming right in front of her face.

"I smell.. a hypocrite. And I _despise_ hypocrites."

Bulma's azure gaze widened as it transitioned from outrage to shock. Vegeta had never blatantly judged her character like this before. Not to say he hadn't insulted her at every right and left turn, but never this intensely over a stupid bath- or lack thereof.

All she could find herself doing was placing her hands up in the air defensively, retreating to a calm approach to the overzealous Prince she was dealing with.

"Okay, Vegeta, that's why I was going to get a tea so I could take a bath alright? You were up in that infirmary for an entire DAY, most of which I spent sitting there right next to you-"

"Yes, I am aware. And if you believe me to be that pathetic that I require the supervision of a pitiful human female to monitor my Saiyan capabilities to heal and cure my own body of any physical injuries in a short amount of time, as well as _increase_ my energy after facing death multiples, you are sadly mistaken."

"Oh really? You weren't even conscious Vegeta, you were out COLD! This isn't your first rodeo either, and I don't believe for a second that you're invincible against death because if that was true then there would be plenty more of you Saiyans to go around!" She lashed out, feeling a strong stab of regret soon after. Her fear multiplied when she saw Vegeta's face grow ashen with absolutely rage.

He moved so swiftly she couldn't even trace his movements when her naked eye, but she felt herself backup into the wall as his hand landed firmly into a space too close to her face for comfort. She was surprised to see that they were almost the same height, with Vegeta only so much taller as he lowered his menacing, deep scowl merely inches away from her startled gaze.

"I do not know of any 'rodeo' but I do know that you yourself are not invincible against death. And if you would like to keep your young life past the next three years, I would strongly suggest you expedite the process of finishing those repairs as well as shut that damn mouth of yours before it gets you in even more trouble than you're already in with me."

She could feel the intrusive heat emanate from his bulging mass of muscle, and the weight of his threatening words being coldly echoed in her mind. He straightened, towering over her by only a few inches, but still making her feel like an ant inside. She felt herself shiver slightly as her cerulean eyes watched his obsidian stare with cautious apprehension.

Was she afraid of him? Could he truly hurt her?

Her eyes averted to the space in the wall next to her where his hand had lunged itself and her eyes widened at the thick, wide indentations left there by his handprint.

When she turned back to try and reprimand him in her shaky demeanor, he was gone.

Yay! So I fixed last chapter and decided to treat you guys because it's been way too long and I swore to myself I wouldn't let this one sit unfinished like my other fics. But I just started a somewhat exhausting full-time job (again) so I'm like so tired.

But no excuses! Have to jog the brain and so here it is. I hope you guys kinda see where I'm going with this, really not doing anything mysterious but…

You'll see.

Leave comments if you like, I really appreciate them and the feedback is always empowering to get me back in the saddle if writer's block or life decides to keep me off it. I honestly must thank Trunksmybaby for recenting reviewing and reminding me that I had some updating to do!

And again thanks to everyone reviewing, subbing, etc, anything is everything. Have a great rest of your weekend!

~Nicolesque


	5. Dreams and Ideas

_She found herself in a mass of burnt rubble, nothing but a dark fog surrounding her as her line of vision blurred and a searing pain stung her eyes. The smoke rising from the ashen Earth was so thick that her eyes were clenching to shield their delicate moisture from the heat. She knew better than to breathe in too much at that point, and taking shallow breaths, the scientist stood weakly and knelt in pure amazement at the destruction around her._

_Her first thought was her parents, her poor elderly parents who she knew would be the most vulnerable even in their castle of security when this finally happened. Not only a victim of himself, she knew that boy wasn't kidding when his face was pale as a sheet when he was explaining these deadly creatures._

_The entire three years of dread and panic as they had gone way too fast weighed down on her in that moment as she very feebly cried out her parents' name but only a meek whimper came out of her scratchy throat. She felt sick with fear that she was losing her voice like there seemed to be in all of her nightmares lately._

_But the nightmare was here. The Androids were here._

_Her heartrate began to climb as her breath quickened even under the threat of smoke inhalation. All she could think about was finding her parents, after all they were all she had here after Yamcha left. She climbed and climb, trembled over molten rock and debris, not even allowing the ill butterflies form tears in her stinging eyes._

_The fires crackling around her and deafened blasts from beyond the border of the city, wherever those monsters had gone, made it extremely difficult for her to hone in on any sounds. Suddenly, the mountain of wreckage she had stumbled through gave way and she fell along the crashing pile to a steaming ground. It was extremely hot from the incinerating Ki blasts that the Androids had donned her yard with-_

_Wait. Her yard? Yes! There was grass! She knew where she was, and even that was a major feat. She frantically looked north for her house, knowing where the sun had set. _

_Alas.. There was no house. No Capsule Corp. And her parents were gone. _

_Tears pricked at her eyes, almost numbing the stinging pain from the smoke. A hard, choking sob wracked at her chest and her hand flew up to try to slow her heart from racing out of her mouth but when she fell to the ground in a heap of emotional paralysis, she couldn't keep the screaming sob from echoing in the wakes of the apocalypse at the very death of those she loved._

_She knew they were all gone. Goku, ChiChi, Piccolo, Krillin, Tien, Chiaotzu, and…_

_Yamcha._

_Dear Kami, Yamcha! How could you do this, why wouldn't you just train and dedicate yourself to surviving like Vegeta-_

_Wait. Vegeta. _

_Suddenly, Bulma's face snapped up to find the Gravity Chamber shimmering and intact in front of her. Vegeta gazing at her in a dreamlike state, his face completely stoic of any regard for her tragedy. He narrowed his eyes in contempt at her before staring out into the beyond and smirking, most likely in the general direction of the two Androids who he obviously had no intent of going after to avenge the planet she invited him on four years ago._

_Then the Gravity Chamber lit up in activation, its accelerators flashing in its red warning lights that went off before it would go into launch mode. Bulma felt herself stealthily pounce from the ground and lunge after the spacecraft. But in those cursedly quick three seconds, she had only just left the ground with a giant leap and touch the thick fog when the Gravity Chamber disappeared from her vision for the final time._

"Bulma… Bulma, dear? Wake up darling, I got hot cakes on the stove!"

The blue-haired genius sprung from her bed in complete terror, laden in sweat. Before her was her mother, her perpetual grin on her face as she held a fresh cup of coffee for her daughter.

"Oh my, you look so worried about something dear! Did you not have another nice dream about that sexy Vegeta kissing you again?"

If she'd gulped the coffee like she had desperately wanted to , she would have spit it all over her wall. Luckily she had stared at her mother like she'd just-

"Whatsa matter honey, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Mrs. Briefs chirped much to Bulma's dismay.

Bulma sighed dramatically, taking in the fact finally that she had just had a bad dream. A _very _bad dream, and not about Vegeta kissing her unfortunately. Her eyes swung to the side at that thought, thinking of that dream in a preferential way disturbed her, especially when she had just dreamed he had let everyone she loved and the planet she lived on die.

She reached out for her pack of cigarettes that were in the "emergency drawer" next to her bed, which she had to admit wasn't _always_ for emergencies, but she definitely considered this one.

Her mother scrunched her face at her daughter lighting the malodorous stick, "Goodness, Bulma you know boys don't like girls with smelly habits!"

Her eyes darted to her mother's from underneath very exasperated eyebrows, "Mom, I just dreamt the Androids came, okay!"

"Still, that's no excuse to have stinky breath. You never know when they might try to kiss you!" Mrs. Briefs replied in sing-song as she left Bulma's bedroom with her hips swinging.

"No, but when I dream about it they can't smell my breath..," Bulma muttered under her breath, not aware of the audience she had accumulated just outside her door.

"You'd be surprised…," the unseen entity muttered under his breath as well but not to Bulma's hearing.

She brought in her legs to her chest, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily into the crook of her knees. She could still feel the rising panic in her chest, filling her abdomen with dread at the terrible sight in front of her.

No. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't. Not that she wanted to know what happens in the end of that dream, but she knew damn well she would never want to be single and childless.

What a terrible death! With her looks and money and smarts, how could that even happen to her? In three years, she can't find ONE PERSON to just be with and love and find happiness with just for a short period?!

Despite the existential crisis her ego was suffering from this ridiculous nightmare, Bulma felt more disturbed about what Vegeta had done in the dream. Just looked at her like someone who sees a dying bird in its cage.

Sure, she knew right away from seeing his stoic face that he wasn't too concerned about the fact that she should have been dead and that her parents, along with everyone else probably were. But in that prolonged moment before he shifted a smirk towards the Androids' path of destruction, she saw something flicker in his eyes. Something more.

Something he hadn't wanted her to see, so he'd turned his head to avoid her gaze catching it.

But she did. And the wondrous discovery somehow made the rest of the dream less painful, less real as it had felt.

'Ugh wow Bulma it's just a dream. Really? This is what you did when you had that dumb kiss dream before too! And now your Mom won't stop talking about it! So why even look so hard into this when it never even happened and probably won't, just like that silly kiss!' Her mental cynic argued against her fanatical ideas, as it normally did. But for some reason, Bulma wouldn't agree.

In face, she was angry inside at the idea of Vegeta taking in all of her generosity, her father building superior gravity generators just to feed his training with more energy and progress than he would have anywhere else while keeping tabs on Goku. After everything, would he really just watch as everyone around him died?

The simple answer was yes. Vegeta had zero ties to this planet, no one he cared about in any regard except for the determined victory he sought from her best friend in a single match that still had yet to happen. And if Goku died with Vegeta losing that chance, he would be forced to be content with being the last Saiyan left, as well as the strongest by default.

Because if she didn't find a way of manipulate that spark in his eye, or evoke _feeling_ in him.. Then maybe her dream was the result. Maybe if he continued to be as hard-headed and hard-hearted at the same time, then they _were_ doomed, perhaps even more so than the threat of Androids. They needed Vegeta as much as they were vulnerable to his determination to not only destroy Goku, but everything else if given the chance.

Well maybe if someone actually gave Vegeta a chance.. Maybe they would be okay and it would make all the difference for the sake of this planet when the Androids finally strike. It would be the difference between her living and dying, her family, friends, and even Yamcha.

Feeling empowered by the stream of ideas rushing through her brain, Bulma excitedly jumped up from her bed and proceeded to get dressed. All that time, she'd had a visitor witnessing the entire exchange from even before she'd been woken up by her mother.

Vegeta had felt her ki spike to an abnormally high level that morning just as he'd walked out of the shower. It would have been one of two things: her idiot counterpart Yamcha was in her bedroom- which made him blanche at the thought of witnessing such a visually heinous event, or Bulma was by herself doing whatever it is human females do in solitude.

Or she was in danger.

For the sole purpose of catching a sparring challenge in her room somehow so that he had someone to physically fight out all his frustrations on, he had flashed through the hallway in his Saiyan hyperspeed to the very right side of her door frame, his ultra sensory hearing caught everything from her hyperventilating to her repeating his name in a breathless whimper.

Needless to say, he was perturbed at the very least at the implications of what he was hearing, but when he had looked around the door frame to Bulma, he saw that she was asleep and simply dreaming. Except for her body flailing about her bed in strange gestures of haste, her eyes were closed and she seemed incoherently unconscious.

When he heard the girl's screeching mother round the corner with that disgusting dark beverage humans drank in mornings, he snapped back to his spot near the bathroom. Not only was he clad in just a bath towel around his waist, but he wasn't done figuring out just what the hell was going on with her.

How did she muster such a high spike in Ki? The woman was a fragile, weak female with a completely sedentary lifestyle and no sense of dietary preservation methods whatsoever. How could she possibly even have that energy to muster?

When he heard her wake up and mention the Androids, he honed his hearing in on her alone. So she'd had some nightmare about Androids, big deal.

The woman had no idea what nightmares even were, apparently.

Then when the mother mentioned a kissing dream, he felt his face scowl. He'd heard quite enough about that incident that he'd tried to block it from his memory, and suddenly despised the mother much more for reminding him of it.

He rolled his eyes and went to his room to change into training clothes, trying to push back the flashbacks to his own series of nightmares.

Still, Bulma felt like she was handed a telepathic tool in saving her future. All this time she had felt a lack of purpose she had for the rest of her Z fighter friends. There was nothing she could do except build, build, build. Even if it was for Vegeta to get him stronger, it didn't feel like enough because she wasn't even sure if he'd remain on their side.

So she set forth on a mission from that morning on. She was going to show Vegeta, somehow, that he could be different. Convince him in some way that destroying everything or letting the Androids destroy them wasn't going to benefit him.

First she would have to gain his trust, and his comfort around her would have to be a little better than him punching a wall right next to her head. Second, she would have to get him to open up to her too somehow. Third…

Third, she would need to become his friend. Somehow, someway.

She didn't know how she felt about being Vegeta's _friend_, within the combative verbal sparring and the imminent threat of physical violence that seemed to radiate from his magnetic presence, but Kami damn.. she would try.

He was the difference, somehow. Somehow she knew that without Vegeta, this entire situation would be against them and they would have no hope. Vegeta was their hope. It was just up to Bulma to get him to see that before time runs out.

She was going to make sure he changed the course of everything. He would be the reason things turn around when the Androids arrive, the reason everything comes together so that they would survive to live their lives and perhaps Bulma wouldn't leave this planet without the chance to experience marriage or motherhood.

If only they both knew…

* * *

Alright did this in one sitting, have to be up for training at my job at dawn on a SATURDAY… So thanks for the patience with my short little thing here but I gots ta get to bed!

Please review if you'd like, I encourage anyone to leave kind words so it will boost my willpower to nurse this story a little more frequently inbetween my crazy busy schedule!

Love all my readers, nonetheless. Without eyes, words have no life.

Have an amazing weekend and get off the computer! After you review this chapter! ;)

~Nicolesque


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